


Monsters in your Head

by natsora



Series: The Lost Daughter [7]
Category: Mass Effect - All Media Types, Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Angst, Bad Coping Mechanism, Captive, F/F, Flashback, Heavy Angst, Kidnapped, Major Character Injury, Mass Effect 2, Medical Inaccuracies, Medical Procedures, Pre-Relationship, Serum Injection, Torture, Water Torture, Waterboarding, Whump, bad things happen, medical whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-08
Updated: 2020-04-15
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:15:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23543722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/natsora/pseuds/natsora
Summary: T’Soni is on the hunt for the Shadow Broker. She asks Shepard for a favour and Shepard can’t refuse. But it all goes wrong when Shepard and T’Soni are captured by the agents of the Shadow Broker. As they fight to stay alive, they question the true cost of life and death.
Relationships: Female Shepard/Liara T'Soni
Series: The Lost Daughter [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1033502
Comments: 10
Kudos: 22





	1. Frayed Threads of Sanity

**Author's Note:**

> _Prompt fill for Serum Injection, Riley Shepard and Liara T’Soni for secrettheoristofwhump_

“Tell me!” 

Before Shepard could speak, pain flashed across her face. Her head whipped back so quickly, she could feel her brain smashing against the insides of her skull. Her vision white out as she bit back a cry. Try as she might, her biotics wouldn’t come. All she was left was a pent up impotence that went nowhere. Her wrists and ankles were lashed to a chair by omni-cuffs that buzzed angrily against her skin, dosed up to her neck with biotic inhibitors. She had been a guest of these thugs for the better part of the day. And this was all getting tiring. 

“Stop!” another voice sliced through the air. 

Shepard peeled her eyes open, one of them had swell enough to narrow her vision down to a slit. She sighed. The thugs weren’t going to stop, they were really just getting started. “Forget it, T’Soni,” she called out, her voice was hoarse. Working her tongue across her teeth to check for loose teeth, she would hate to lose one now that she had a full set again. Resurrection did wonders for one’s skin and teeth. 

The batarian laughed, a pair of eyes trained on her while the other pair remained on T’Soni. It was disconcerting to watch. Shepard bared her bloody teeth in defiance. A fist met her face. The blow split her skin at her brow open and blood poured into her eye. She must have been a ghastly sight if T’Soni’s ashen skin was any indication. 

“Just tell us the truth and it will all be over,” the batarian drawled, his Omegan accent strong, as he circled her.

“I’m telling you the truth!” T’Soni cried, her arms worked against her bonds, rubbing her skin raw and bloody. Blue blood trickling down her wrists. 

Shepard sagged back against the chair. This was going to be a long day. The hollow rattle of a shuttle burning through dark space filled the space between her harsh breaths. 

* * *

**_Earlier…_ **

“Is the intel accurate?” Shepard asked. She couldn’t help the prickling feeling at her back. Instincts honed from running the streets back on Earth was whispering at her ear. No amount of checking and re-checking her surroundings got rid of the feeling. Her hand never strayed far from her pistol. 

Smog choked the sky, colouring it pink. Eezo dusted the air like a blanket. Her biotics sang an angry song under her skin, fuelled by the excess eezo all around them. Voices of all species filtered through the alleys, haggling and arguing before gunshots rang out. Violence was the lingua franca of Omega. 

This was her haven now, but it didn’t mean she enjoyed being here. _A broken place for a broken person, apt._ Outlawed by the Alliance, hunted by her fellow soldiers, this was the only safe place for the Normandy to dock, fucking Omega. After everything she had done for the Alliance, to have the door slammed in her face confirmed what she knew deep down all along — the street kid from Earth was expandable and unwanted. She was un-fucking-loveable all along. Death walked in her wake and everything she touched crumbled to dust. 

Two years gone and she’s a stranger to her own life. No, she merely returned to the life she deserved. Her days with the Alliance was a fluke and was never meant to last. She should have been grateful for what she had had. 

Shepard ran a gloved hand over her scarred jawline, scratching at the glowing red lines that marked her as a science experiment gone wrong. She studied T’Soni. The hard armour T’Soni wore was custom fitted, she handled her pistol with ease, checking the clip before slamming it home. T’Soni had changed. Shepard shouldn’t be surprised, after all everyone else had, but she was. It’s one thing after another and another and another, but this change felt harder to swallow than all the rest she was forced to accept these past few months. 

Shepard couldn’t say what exactly she was feeling as she followed T’Soni through the filthy and dark alleys. Disappointment? Grief? She shook her head and followed. Gone was the Prothean scholar who spent her days at dig sites studying the ancient civilisation. Though T’Soni’s thirst for knowledge remained, it had now been warped. Instead of old truths, she dug for the location of the Shadow Broker’s base. Shepard didn’t need to ask what’s T’Soni’s intent, she could read it in her flinty gaze and too sharp smile.

The Shepard of old, pre-death, she thought cheerfully, would have mourned the loss of the person T’Soni used to be. But the Shepard now, the one who was watching T’Soni’s back nodded in approval. Far better to plan for the worse after all. It’s had been proven time and again, happiness was a construct not meant for the likes of them. Her life was changed in the instant the Normandy was hit. Two years for everyone was merely five long minutes it took for her to choke and die in space. 

Shepard sighed and focused on the job at hand. T’Soni had asked for a favour and she couldn’t refuse a friend. That’s why she was here, watching T’Soni’s back, navigating through this maze of a rock, enduring the foul stench everywhere she turned. Her instincts screamed at her every corner they approached. 

“It’s here,” T’Soni insisted, her eyes flashed, meeting Shepard’s for a split second before turning back to her omni-tool. “The dead drop is just ahead. We just have to intercept it and I’ll have enough to—” 

A short plink caught Shepard’s attention. She whirled to see a small round object was flung in their direction. She threw a barrier up around them, but it’s no defence against a flash bang. Bright white seared her retinas. Instincts took over, she reached out grabbing T’Soni. “It’s me,” she barked when she felt the telltale buzz of biotics surging to meet hers. “Barrier now!”

Instantly Shepard could feel T’Soni’s biotics reached out to join her. Fighting as long as she had, she melded many a biotic field with another. There was always a signature to how an individual’s field felt, like a scent or physical sensation. T’Soni’s was familiar, almost like slipping back into water, smooth and cool. For a moment, Shepard was pulled back into the past and she was merely having a vivid nightmare. Reality snapped right back when bullets slammed into their combined barrier. 

Her sight might be compromised, but her ears worked fine. Fighting hampered wasn’t something new. Pistol in her hand, she fired. In the narrow alley, there was no real need to aim. Combat was the only dance she was good at. And Shepard was never more graceful. 

* * *

The dead littered the ground. Death followed Shepard, and she kept them well fed. She grinned. Victory was surely at hand, but a yelp cut through her smile as she spun. T’Soni fell in a heap. She laid face down, half out of cover but she had taken no visible wounds. In the heat of battle, they had gotten separated.

 _What the fuck?_

Shepard grimaced, tightening her grip on her pistol. She lunged, omni-blade sizzling through the air, taking limbs and punching holes into chests with equal ease. The pistol bucked in her hand, taking down enemies slow enough to give her an opening. When the pressure got too much, her biotics flared and she shoved them on their asses. 

Judging by their height and shape of their armour, she was facing vorchas. They were canon fodder to wear her down but here on Omega, with plentiful eezo, she was a goddess. The scent of ozone was so strong it choked the air. Nobody dared come within range

Shepard risked a glance at T’Soni’s fallen form. There was a black object stuck to the back of her suit. She frowned, it looked like a bio-weapon of some sort. She’d bet good credits this was the reason why T’Soni was unconscious. Would yanking it off T’Soni’s armour reverse the effects? It was probably not worth the risk, not when she didn’t know where the attacker was. They were clearly waiting to catch her unaware. 

A snarl from a vorcha confirmed it. She pulled them into the air before firing two clean shots into their centre mass. Heart thudding as she growled under her breath, “EDI, how many fuckers are there?”

“I’m sorry, Shepard, there is a distinct lack of security cameras on Omega. I am unable to determine how many assailants there are.”

“A little less lip, EDI,” she snarled, glaring at the seemingly empty alley, but she knew better. 

As she weighed her options, a voice called out. “Walk away.” She spun around. The voice came from above. They didn’t have the height of a turian or salarian, not the sheer bulk of a krogan, or the lithe form of an asari. That left human or batarian. They were likely the leader of this entire mess.

“What the fuck do you want?” she shouted, eyes darting around to make sure nobody was taking the chance to flank her. 

“We just want your boss. You’re just a merc,” the voice continued. Their form was mostly shrouded by the endless vapour discharged from a nearby chimney. No doubt its source was a Red Sand cookhouse or other. “Walk away. Better flee with your life than to die for a client. Credits isn’t all there is to life,” their tone smug and haughty, assured in their victory. 

_They do not recognise me._

The realisation made her head spin. Maybe her red hair was no longer a dead giveaway to her identity. Years ago, when she was hailed a war hero after the Battle of Elysium, it was a trend that swept the colonies, even Earth. It flared up again just six months— no, it was two years and six months ago, when they defeated Saren. She yanked her thoughts from the track it was on. This was no time for fucking distractions. That was a different Shepard and all she could control was the here and now.

Jerking her chin up at the figure, she narrowed her eyes, noticing the strange attachment on their rifle. Clearly it was responsible for taking T’Soni down. “And what the fuck are you doing this for? Shits and giggles?”

The merc stiffened. They stepped forward past the endless vapour. _A batarian, no doubt about that now._ She had put a fair number of them down before and after Elysium. What’s another one?

“Last chance,” he offered. “Walk away. Or you’ll regret it.”

Shepard’s lip curled. She might not be a respected Alliance soldier anymore, but she still had her pride and she was stubborn as hell. “I’m so touched you care but save it fucker. Let’s dance!”

It was all bravado and she was probably being stupid, but impulse control was something she had trouble with since she woke on Lazarus station. Or maybe this was her true self, the one that had been sealed away under strict Alliance regulations. Here she was, breaking free once more. She conquered death, what’s an ambush?

Hand thrusted forward, she sent a blue spear slicing through the air towards the batarian’s head. Cut off the head and the rest would flee, or so the logic went. That’s the plan but it went sideways when her lance impacted against a shimmering orange shield. 

_Fuck._

The battle roared to life again. The bang-bang-bang of bullets launching themselves from pistols rang in her ears. the stench of burning biohazards seared her nostrils as biotics were flung across the space. Shepard was good but hampered and unable to escape, she was no match against so many. Even a hero must fall.

Her head slammed into the ground. Blood trickled down her face, the skin at her brow had split from a blow to her head. Her side burnt where the bullet slammed into her armour. Her barriers and shields took the brunt of it, but the kinetic force was too great to completely negate. She was spent, utterly and completely drained. Her amp was alarmingly hot under her skin. In a previous life, she would be afraid she’d glitch out. That’s one good thing with a rebirth, no more fucked up implant and amp. 

The batarian barked a command and vorchas surrounded her. Darkness crept at the edges of her vision. More barked orders rang out. A vorcha scanned her arms and wrestled her into a sitting position, her right arm pulled forward. A couple of scraps with the buzzing edge of an omni-blade, her gauntlet was pried off her arm. _Lawson’s not going to be happy about replacing that._

The batarian pulled a small blade from their belt. Its edge gleamed sharp and wicked in the dim light. “You made your choice, you didn’t have to die.”

Shepard spat. The glob of bloody spit landed sadly on the ground, not even making it far enough to stain his armour. “Do your worse.” She braced herself, half willing the blade to slice through her throat and end this shit existence she was living, half baulking at the fact she was dying some ignoramus death on Omega. 

The blade made a clean cut on her forearm, armoured fingers dug into the parted skin. She cried out, bucking against the vorchas holding her down. Fingers emerged all bloody and dripping with a small chip between them. It was her omni-tool implant. 

_Oh fuck, what exactly does he have planned._

“You made your choice,” the batarian growled as he slammed the butt of his rifle into her head. 

Shepard fell limply onto the ground. Her vision tunnelled at a rate that would have alarmed her if she had the capacity to. “EDI, a little help would be great,” she muttered before she fell into an endless pit of black. 

* * *

**_Now…_ **

“Stop lying!” the batarian shouted. 

Shepard winced and tlited her head away from his bellow. She couldn’t say how long they had been at it. They were convinced T’Soni worked for someone looking for the Shadowbroker. She had to bite her lip to keep from laughing out loud. They weren’t mistaken, but they got one major fact wrong. T’Soni wasn’t the front of a much larger operation. It was just the two of them, but a spectre and a badass information broker were probably a large enough outfit for this bunch of mercs

“Talk! Or your bodyguard is going to suffer more than mere cuts and bruises.” He slammed his fist into Shepard’s gut just to prove he wasn’t messing about. 

Air rushed out of her guts as she coughed and heaved. She would have thrown up if she had anything in her stomach. All she managed was a token strand of acidic bile hanging from her lip. “That all you’ve got?” she chuckled, lifting her head in defiance. “You’ve got to do better. I’m Commander Shepard after all.”

“Lies!” the batarian snarled. “You will not fool Kacor! Any merc can get a hair mod and set it red. That doesn’t make you Shepard.”

If anything it set Shepard laughing harder. Pain flared from blows she had taken, her ribs screamed in protest, but still she laughed and laughed. Horror was printed clear across T’Soni’s face. Kacor had mistaken it to be directed at his threat, but Shepard knew better. It was the realisation of how broken she really was. Here and now, the facade was gone, torn down by pain, shattered by the lack of Cerberus’ monitoring. There was no need for pretence any longer. It’s all out on display. 

Kacor, understandably, did not take her mirth well. He snarled, his blade glinted against the dim light. Without preamble, he brought it down. Shepard hissed, pulling back as far as her bonds allowed. Steel sang as it pierced still air. She expected pain, blood and probably death, hell she might even welcomed it, but there was none of that. The point of the blade stopped an anti-climatic inch away from her thigh. 

Kacor grinned at their reactions. “Don’t test me.”

“Boss,” one of the other batarian called out when the door hissed opened. “The Broker wants to speak to you.”

Kacor growled and strode out, leaving Shepard alone with T’Soni under guard of the remaining pair of batarians. Tasks, it seemed, he couldn’t trust to his gang of vorchas. The shuttle they were on was too small to accommodate so many anyway, so the vorchas were left back on Omega. Shepard groaned and leaned back against back rest, eyes closing, giving in to exhaustion. 

“What the hell were you thinking?” T’Soni hissed under her breath. 

She peeled her single non-swell shut eye open. “Keeping the attention off of you?” she growled. “EDI should have informed Vakarian or Lawson. Help will come.”

T’Soni took a deep breath, her gaze softened. The information broker retreated and a little of the scholar returned. “Are you all right?”

She didn’t reply. What was T’Soni asking? Her physical health? The answer was plain enough. She probably had a concussion and multiple fracture ribs. Her mental health? That was a can of worms she didn’t want to open, ever. 

“Shepard…” T’Soni’s voice crackled with an undercurrent of grief. In the still air, it carried a stench. Old and sour, like a weight she had carried for a long time. 

Trying to find a more comfortable position, Shepard shifted. A moan spilled from her lips. She wasn’t above using her pain to avoid uncomfortable topics. “We can talk once we get out of here,” she lied. 

T’Soni held her gaze. She knew. She knew Shepard was lying, but she nodded anyway. They were both contented to sit in their separate shroud of shadow. 

The peace didn’t last long. Kacor returned. His lips parted in a feral grin. Two pairs of eyes darted between them, separately. It looked ten times more disconcerting. “Shepard huh?” he drawled. “Keeping the charades up I see. Be that as it may, my job doesn’t change. The big man asked for results and I’m going to deliver. You’re my ticket to the big leagues and I’m not about to let you get in the way of that.”

Shepard snorted. More inappropriate taunting sat on the tip of her tongue. She only managed to hold them back when she caught T’Soni’s glare. 

“Kacor,” T’Soni interjected. “You win. I’m not willing to die for my employer.”

“Unlike your bodyguard here,” Kacor chuckled darkly as he circled Shepard. His blade was still in his hand, gesturing at her with it. “Good help is hard to find. I would hire your bodyguard if she wasn’t human.”

Cold and calculating, sharp and ruthless, Shepard saw the scholar die and the information broker took over. T’Soni took a deep breath and nodded. Her smile was made of knives. “You’re absolutely right. Her loyalty is commendable, but that’s not the topic at hand. Let’s discuss our release in more comfortable environment, shall we?”

Kacor looked at T’Soni, already dismissing Shepard from his mind. After all, why pay attention to the dumb bodyguard? But she was on guard, he took down two powerful biotics. Sure, it took plenty of vorchas to do it, flinging at them like the canon fodder, but it got the job done. His eyes narrowed and he cocked his head. “I’m not trusting this change of heart. Maybe I should make sure?”

The door opened again. “Boss, here’s the serum.”

Shepard stiffened. She might have a new body, rebuild from the ground up as a new person, but her memories were intact, most of them anyway. The bottle Kacor took from his man held a red liquid, glittering and dancing with particles. 

_No._

Fear, bitter and angry, flared in her mind. 

_No!_

A whispered threat, a syringe waved before her, a hand parting the hair at the back of her neck

_NO!_

A sharp pain as the needle stabbed her and her sanity fell away.

They might have been a mere two arms’ length apart but held fast in restraints, locked in her own memories as Shepard was they might as well be in two different galaxies. 

“Shepard!” T’Soni shouted. “What the fuck did you give her?” 

Shepard was shouting the words as she wrestled against her bonds.

“Shepard! Riley!”

T’Soni’s voice broke through. It snapped her back to the present, ghosts of trauma past dancing at the corners of her vision as she blinked rapidly. She jerked her eyes to T’Soni as her breath rattled from her lungs, drinking in T’Soni’s gaze like it was the only thing keeping her afloat. A chill ran down her spine as she noticed Kacor’s interest. Heart slamming against her chest, she gulped and clamped her lips shut. Fear was quickly channeled to anger. Reaching for her biotics, they remained frustratingly out of reach, buzzing and echoing against a cage she couldn’t break. She let out a growl of frustration.

“Maybe not so much of a bodyguard after all?” Kacor mused. “Lovers maybe?”

T’Soni flinched as she glared at him. “I’ve already promised to tell you what you want to know.”

“But why the sudden change of heart?” 

He filled a syringe and jerked his head at his men. Hands clamped down on Shepard’s head, twisting it to the side and holding her still. Her face was pressed against the back of the chair, veins throbbed against her temple as she struggled. 

“What the fuck? Punches and kicks not working for you?” Shepard growled, rocking the chair, but it was bolted to the floor of the shuttle. There was no leverage. It only fuelled her panic. “Fuck off!”

Kacor grinned. “What? The big bad merc is afraid of needles? I’ve heard of such a fear in humans but you’re the first who is literally pissing their pants over this tiny bit of metal.”

Shepard’s jaw tightened, dread clawing against her, closing like a noose around her throat. The hard back of the chair ground against her cheekbone. Merciless hands locked her head in position were merciless. T’Soni inhaled. She hesitated, her hands curled into fists before she forced them flat against. Her body relaxed against the chair, as if it was a throne and not a cage. “Do what you will. I’m here ready to talk business once you’re done with your little charade.”

Shepard’s chest squeezed so tight she was seeing spots dancing at the edges of her vision. _It’s just a ruse. T’Soni is just playing them. Calm the fuck down._ It took effort to force her breath to come out deep and slow. She trusted T’Soni, this wasn’t in doubt, but she prayed T’Soni had gambled right. 

Doubt crept into Kacor’s eyes, the hand that held the syringe fell to his side. Shepard held her breath, tracking the syringe’s every move. Then, he shrugged. “I’ve always wanted to try this serum out.”

The syringe plunged into Shepard’s arm, right where they had sliced her omni-tool implant out, into the bleeding gaping wound. There was no time to process. One moment she was shackled to a chair being beaten up, the next her mind flung her back twenty years. 

She wasn’t Shepard then. She had another name, one of her own choosing. She stood at the centre of a fighting ring and the crowd roared her name. 

Over and over, she fought and won. 

Over and over, she raked in credits for the Reds.

Over and over, she fired her pistol and spilt blood on raids. 

Over and over, she lost her only friend to the end of a bullet. 

Over and over, she was drugged out of her mind and murdered every single fucking day. 

Shepard opened her eyes a million times to see a million different sights. Most of them of the past, some of the present. Tears streamed down her face as she fought to differentiate them. But to the others, she just sat stock still, eyes locked open and unblinking as whimpers escaped her clenched jaw. 

T’Soni looked at Shepard. Fear never broke through her mask. She maintained her disaffected expression, only the vein throbbing at her neck gave her away. Kacor, on the other hand, was bored. “I had expected more screaming? Maybe the dose isn’t high enough.” 

He stood and bent to put his face levelled to Shepard’s. Two pairs of eyes regarded hers. Shepard saw double, his face overlaid by another’s. Words echoing from the past to the present. She was helpless both then and now. Kacor held a syringe of Red Sand, the man who ran the Reds was injecting her with more serum. 

The first dose forced her into her earliest memories. The second locked her in her worst ones. 

* * *

“Shepard,” someone whispered her name. 

_No, that’s not my name, not my true one._

“Nike,” the voice tried again. 

_How?_

Shepard groaned and tried to raise. The bonds were gone, but her body ached. Pain seared up her arm, reaching her shoulder. Her tongue was stuck to the top of the roof of her mouth. “What… happened?” She peeled her eyes open to find T’Soni’s bright blue ones searching hers. “Water?” she asked, her voice shaking.

T’Soni brought a bottle to her lips. Shepard choked the liquid down as fast as T’Soni could pour it down her throat, but her guts clenched and it all came up again. She heaved, cradling her arm to her chest. 

“Do you think you can sit up?” T’Soni asked when her breath calmed and there was nothing coming up for a few minutes. 

Shepard grunted and braced against the floor, lips twisting when she had to put her hand on the watery mess she made. Her muscles corded and tightened, but she barely had strength left to do even something so simple “Might need a little help.” 

T’Soni’s strong hands wrapped around her side and pulled her up. Her right hand burnt even from the slightest jostling. Something was very wrong with it. Her gut cramped up at the thought. 

“Are you all right?” T’Soni whispered, shifting so that Shepard leaned against her chest. “Stupid question. Of course, you’re not all right.” The information broker warred with the scholar to maintain her mask of cold ruthlessness. 

Shepard rested her arm against T’Soni thigh and sighed. To lean against T’Soni’s armour was the most welcome after hours in the chair. Tentatively she looked at her arm, she couldn’t help the gasp that escaped her lips. The armour piece was gone, pried and broken off, leaving sharp ends pressing against her skin and undersuit where it still held. The suit itself slashed and ripped up, underneath that her skin, flesh and bone laid bare. Pain intensified just looking a the throbbing wound. It was sharp, reaching past skin and flesh to reach her bone. Her breath quickened as she noticed her wound was swollen and still bleeding. Her jaw clenched tight as another wave of nausea swept over. 

_What else did the serum do?_

“You’re burning up, Shepard,” T’Soni whispered into her ear, probably guarding against any bugs in the room. “This is all my fault I should have…”

Shepard grunted, shivering a little now that T’Soni had pointed out. “There’s nothing you could have done. What’s important is we get out of here. Do you know how long it has been?”

A snort, harsh and dry, huffed against Shepard’s short hair as T’Soni’s arms wrapped gently around her torso. The warmth against her back made her feel infinitely better. How she longed to let her eyes close just for a little nap.

“We’ve reached wherever here is. The shuttle docked about an hour ago. You were out for a long time. Goddess, I can’t even tell the damn time, they cut my implant out as well.”

Blue blood crusted along a long thin slice on T’Soni’s arm. It looked almost surgical compared to the crude rip on her forearm. Shepard reached for her biotics, it laid tantalisingly out of reach. She sighed, too exhausted to do anything more than a frustrated growl.

“I don’t know what drugs they have injected into you. You could have died.”

“I didn’t.”

T’Soni shifted, arms loosening, warmth disappearing, and stared at Shepard. Her eyes wide, they hovered on the edge of concern and disbelief. 

Shepard’s gaze hardened, and she pushed away from T’Soni, sitting up on her own power and shifting away. “I didn’t die. That’s all that matters,” she growled, ripping a long strip from her undersuit to bind her wound. 

“Shepard, you can’t mean that. You’re important.”

She went on with her work without replying. The emotions that were pent up for months, they had been all bubbling under the surface. She couldn’t let it out. Once the floodgates open, there was no going back. Alenko needed the Alliance N7, Council Spectre Riley Shepard, not the broken woman that was scrapped off the streets of Earth thrusted into an ill-fitting uniform to go with the lies she built her life on. It was her fault he was taken by the Collectors. She could compartmentalise, she had to. She would deal with these were fucked up thoughts when she got back to the Normandy. _Ha, as if._

As the minutes went by, she could feel a modicum of energy returning. Count on her fucked up machine of a body to process the serum quickly and efficiently. Far be it she put a stain on Lawson’s work by dying ignominiously at the hands of some upstart batarian. 

“Shepard, look at me,” T’Soni called. 

Shepard ignored her, her hand shook as she secured the makeshift bandage over the wound. 

“Look at me,” T’Soni closed the short distance between them. 

She had no intention on confronting the tangled ball of emotional, existential, hell Williams would say spiritual too, whiplash she was forced through these past months. As her thoughts roared in her ears, she was content to focus her attention on the unnatural heat radiating from her throbbing arm, to watch the blood soak through the material. 

“Nike.”

Her head jerked up. T’Soni had been in her head, she had seen things Shepard had never told any one, but it wasn’t how T’Soni knew her true name. They had met. Years ago, back when she was a kid scamming credits from tourists. T’Soni was one of the few links to a past she no longer owned.

“You don’t get to call me that. That kid is long dead and buried.” Anger flashed in her eyes. 

T’Soni met her fury head on, accepting it, tempering it with her calm gaze. Was Shepard looking upon the scholar or the information broker? She couldn’t tell any longer. 

“Please don’t throw your life away, Shepard. It was hard enough the first time,” T’Soni said. Her voice was steady, but her stare grew heavy, laden with grief Shepard couldn’t possibly start to account for. “The galaxy needs you, I need you.”

Shepard chuckled. Lies, this must be lies friends tell friends. The beautiful words that comforted, that suffocated, that choked and smouldered. It was too much weight, the expectations, the pressure. She could shoulder it, but it didn’t make the experience pleasant. Maybe things would straighten themselves out once she’d dealt with the Collectors, convinced the Council the Reapers were real, and figure out how to untangle the others and herself from the Illusive Man’s sticky little fingers. 

T’Soni’s worry only heightened at Shepard’s slightly unhinged bout of laughing. Her hand reached out towards Shepard’s shoulder, it hovered in the air for a tense moment before she clenched it and brought it back to her side. 

Shepard’s grin widened, a smile that never reached her eyes. “I won’t, T’Soni,” she reassured nobody, “I won’t throw my life away. I’m just reborn more hardy than before. That’s why I take the hits. If the Collectors can’t kill me, I’m practically indestructible at this point.”

More lies. These Shepard told herself. Lies to shore up her crumbling sanity, her eroding faith in her ability to manage the impossible. But she would lie clean through her teeth if she had to, it was the only way she could keep herself going. 

Words looked like they hovered on T’Soni’s tongue, but the door to their little ceil clanked opened and Kacor stepped in. “Welcome to my little humble abode. It’s time for the kid gloves to come off. The big man had authorised enhanced interrogation techniques.”

Without waiting, rough hands dragged T’Soni to her feet, pulling her out of the room. “We had a deal!” she shouted. 

“Yes we did,” Kacor laughed. “But the big man gets what the big man wants. And he does not believe a single word you’ve told me.”

Shepard surged up to her feet only to be intercepted by Kacor’s people. It didn’t take much effort before they got her pinned to the floor. She roared her impotence. 

“Don’t be so eager, _Commander Shepard_ ,” he mocked. Clearly there were a shit load of Shepard lookalikes running around in the two years she laid dead. “If you enjoyed our little serum tests before, you will enjoy what I’ve planned next.”

Dread curdled like spoilt milk in Shepard’s guts. _It’s fine, I can do this. T’Soni can’t handle it. I can. My body isn’t flesh and blood anymore. I can do this._ She repeated in her head as they dragged her after T’Soni. 


	2. The Soldier Hurts, The Scholar Dies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dismay, fear, and guilt stood stark against T’Soni’s blue skin. “Stop this!” she screamed as she twisted against her bonds. 
> 
> Shepard gasped for air, coughing and heaving. She prayed for relief in any form it took. Death was almost welcome. Tears streamed from her face unbidden as her pulse pounded loud in her ears. And she surrendered to exhaustion, closing her eyes bounded by a thin strip of fabric.
> 
> Gone was the shuttle, they were at some old decrepit space station. This was Kacor’s base of operations. The room was dim, lit only by small bulbs in the corners. Lighting must have came at a premium or batarians just had better low light vision. Having an extra set of eyes would certainly have helped. 
> 
> “I’ve told you wanted to know, what more do you want from me?” T’Soni yelled. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Prompt fill for Water Torture, Riley Shepard and Liara T’Soni for Seo Kanori_

* * *

Dismay, fear, and guilt stood stark against T’Soni’s blue skin. “Stop this!” she screamed as she twisted against her bonds. 

Shepard gasped for air, coughing and heaving. She prayed for relief in any form it took. Death was almost welcome. Tears streamed from her face unbidden as her pulse pounded loud in her ears. And she surrendered to exhaustion, closing her eyes bounded by a thin strip of fabric.

Gone was the shuttle, they were at some old decrepit space station. This was Kacor’s base of operations. The room was dim, lit only by small bulbs in the corners. Lighting must have came at a premium or batarians just had better low light vision. Having an extra set of eyes would certainly have helped. 

“I’ve told you wanted to know, what more do you want from me?” T’Soni yelled. 

Kacor laughed. Words were exchanged but what the contents were, Shepard had no idea. She was focused on catching the next breath and the next breath. Despite the overriding need to breathe, she shuddered at the drip-drip-drip of water. It trailed from her hair and body, from the infernal towel that threatened to drown her. There was no pulling her attention away despite her weariness. A chuckle ghosted against her neck and she flinched, head jerked towards the sound, her single not swollen eye snapped opened. Even if she couldn’t make out vague shapes through her blindfold, she knew the batarian with the wet towel was near, grinning that sharp fanged smile at her. 

Fear was always something nebulous and shapeless, a mist that disappeared when she took a good hard look at it, the illusion that ambushed her when her back was turn. But here in the small room, T’Soni was tied to a chair begging Kacor to stop, Shepard stripped down to her sports bra and briefs, blindfolded, lashed by her wrists and ankles to a board; fear was a wet towel and the endless water pouring over her face. 

All of Shepard’s plans and schemes fled once the water started pouring. Panic seized her chest and wouldn’t let go. Her heart slammed itself against her ribs, threatening to break through just to escape the horror. Time ceased to have meaning in that space. All she wanted to do was breathe but water was everywhere. It invaded her nose and her mouth. There was no air to be found. Lungs heaving, limbs tugging against cuffs only to be rubbed raw, rocking the board, setting it creaking and groaning. For all of Lawson’s engineering, building a body with stronger muscles and tougher bones, she couldn’t override the basic primal fear of drowning for all humans. 

“Lies! You expect me to believe anything you say?” Kacor roared. His patience, after what’s clearly his umpteenth attempt at a truth he refused to believe, had completely fled. “You don’t seem to care about your bodyguard a whole lot when you insist on lying.”

One of the first thing Kacor did when he dragged them into the room was to fit them with slave collars. Not only did it had the ability to shock them at will via a remote, it also negated their biotics as well. And he had been shocking them regularly for no rhyme or reason. 

A familiar telltale buzzing started up again. Shepard braced, but knowing something was coming didn’t mean she would fear it any less. Electricity coursed through her neck, she jerked against her restraints as pain flared across her body. She cried out, her voice joined by T’Soni’s in an aria made with pain. 

“Are you going to tell the truth?” Kacor demanded. 

“I’m telling you the fucking truth!” T’Soni yelled right back. 

A sharp blow impacted against a jaw and T’Soni grunted. Shepard struggled and lifted her head in T’Soni’s direction. She cursed the blindfold.

“Oh… look who wants more?” Kacor laughed, his voice reverberating inside the small space. “Looks like someone is thirsty.”

Shepard stiffened. “No.” Her breath hitched as she shook her head, her hair was still dripping wet from the last round. 

A single word, but it carried all her fear and dread. All her injuries, the raw open wound on her arm, the burns on her neck, the serum doing who the fuck knew what in her veins, her fractured ribs, and none of that could compare to the threat of water.

“No!” she shouted, jerking her head left and right to break free. 

“You must be thirsty,” Kacor’s voice was now nearer. 

Hands gripped her head, holding it still. Leather gloves pressing hand into her skin and bone. She fought against her restraints and could only rattle them with impotence.

“NO!”

There was no bargaining with fear and horror of the towel and all that it brought. Shepard was an N7 soldier, a spectre and a child who grew up too fast on the streets. All that crumpled away to dust and ashes against water. 

_It’s just water. Just water._

“Stop! Please stop!” T’Soni cried. 

The towel was tightened over Shepard’s face again. Wet fabric pressed against her face, over her nose and mouth. 

_It’s just water._

Panic rode up her chest as she jerked against her bonds. The fabric stuck to her nose making it hard to breathe. Droplets of water was inhaled with every desperate gasp for air.

_Just water._

Her bonds were loose enough she had enough play to shift the board she was tied to. There was enough length, she could bring her elbows and shoulders to bear on the cuff. 

_Just water._

Half formed plans to pull herself free, to break the omni-cuffs if she applied pressure at the right spots, rattled at the back of her head.

_Just—_

Water came, over her face, in a relentless stream. It soaked the fabric instantly. Panicked breaths seized her. And all thoughts ceased.

_Can’t breathe._

The water hit her nose, filling it, flowing into the back of her throat. 

_Can’t breathe!_

More entered through her mouth. No amount of spitting could get rid of the water fast enough. 

_CAN’T BREATHE!_

She was drowning and she knew it. The water wouldn’t stop. No matter how she bucked and fought, there was no getting free. The ringing in her ears roared. The black swallowed her whole for her to return her here over and over again.

* * *

“What have you done?” T’Soni screamed. 

Her voice was a reel that dragged Shepard back into consciousness. Hollow voices raged on somewhere nearby, she was a fish tossed up by the tide, the waves of unconsciousness lapping at her mind.

“What the fuck have you done?” T’Soni continued, spewing vulgarities like she had never done before. 

Everything hurt, Shepard’s chest hurt, her throat and mouth were raw. Thankfully the fucking towel had been removed from her face, but her blindfold remained. 

“You’ve killed her!” Kacor roared at his men. “Go check!”

Shepard kept still and held her breath. T’Soni’s sobs were gut-wrenching to hear. There was real grief behind her cries. _Is this what happened when I died?_ If she was loved, why did everyone shunned her when she is alive now? Shepard tore her mind from the old rut she found it in and focused on the opportunity before her. This was the chance she was waiting for. 

“But boss…” the batarian pleaded. “The human can’t be dead. We were careful.”

“The fucking human is not breathing, resuscitate her, then we can continue,” Kacor barked. 

Behind the blindfold, she could make out a pair of shadows approaching. As slowly as she could, she tested the cuffs that lashed her wrists to the board. Her struggles had worked the cuffs loose. They had more give than before. 

The reluctant batarians hovered over her. Grunts were exchanged between them, neither were willing to touch her. She might be pretending to be dead now but a simple press of their hand against her pulse point would give the game away. 

“You touch the human,” one growled. 

“No, it’s your turn. I checked her the last time,” the other snarled. 

One of them ripped her blindfold off roughly. “There, I’ve touched her. Your turn.”

Shepard cracked an eye opened a tiny slit, the other was too swollen to even see through. The hilt of a blade was secured prominently against one of the batarian’s chest. It look ornate but hopefully it held an edge because she had one chance and one chance only. 

Biting down on her lip, she twisted her wrists. Her joints screamed, her teeth drew blood, but her efforts were rewarded. The cuffs gave way with a crack, they powered down and died with a whine. She surged up, heedless of the buzzing that was about to start at her slave collar. Wrapping her hand around the hilt, a grin parted her lips, her first in hours of torture. Blade met flesh and hide, puncturing organs, slicing throats. Shepard made quick work of her torturers in mere seconds. Kacor’s eyes, all two pairs of them, widened and he depressed the button on the remote. She had been expecting that. Even as electricity made her jolt and convulse, she endured the burning of her skin. Sliding the blade up between the collar and her neck, she gave a quick twist of her wrist and disarmed it. Instantly, her biotics came flooding back. Shepard wasn’t going to fuck around any longer. 

T’Soni’s eyes were rolling to the back of her head, shaking as her jaw was clenched so tight she couldn’t scream. Nobody could withstand the shock of these collars indefinitely. Shepard flared with bright blue fire, ripping the restraints at her ankles off. With the weight of all her fury and anger, she drove her fist into Kacor’s jaw. The bone cracked, broke and got pulverised under her fist. It sent him sailing across the air to land with a solid crunch as flesh met bulkhead. The dent he left assured Shepard he was dead. By then she was ripping the collar from T’Soni’s neck. 

“I’ve got you, I’ve got you,” Shepard whispered urgently, cradling T’Soni as she whimpered. 

T’Soni shuddered and pressed her face into Shepard’s shoulder, her arms came up to wrap them around her chest. They clawed at her back with a desperation and panic Shepard had never seen before. “I thought you were dead. I thought I had to live through your death again.”

Shepard pushed away, cupping T’Soni’s face. “You won’t, not again. I have no intention of dying today. But as touching as all this is, we have to go.”

The alarm hadn’t been raised yet, but it was only a matter of time someone found out. T’Soni nodded, recognising the urgency of their situation. Pushing herself to her feet and taking her first wobbly steps as a free woman. Her lips curled as she kicked Kacor’s groin with her bare foot. “Fucker.”

Shepard chuckled darkly with approval, but it turned into a series of gut clenching coughs. There was no time. She fought to get a move on. Already the strength from her initial rush of adrenaline was leaking from her limbs. The ordeal of the past few days rearing its head and suggesting she lay down and rest. 

“Come on,” T’Soni shouldered some of her weight, pulling her good arm over her shoulder.

Shepard nodded through her bleary vision and they staggered out. 

* * *

It hurt to breathe. Why? Shepard had all the air she could possibly want and it was still impossible to breathe. She groaned and huffed weakly. The chair wasn’t comfortable, but she didn’t dare to stray far from T’Soni. She might need backup, she might need help. 

Chills rattled her bones the way they did her lungs. Coughing dislodged the worse of the phlegm, but it would devolved into vomiting. Nothing but water came up, the water they had poured into her nose and mouth. And then she was choking again.

_Not again._

She was drowning. The water kept coming.

_Not again!_

She fought the hands holding her down. 

_NO!!_

Eyes snapped open, finding nothing but the ghosts of her past staring at her. Men long dead at her hands pumping her full of Red Sand. She reacted instantly. Her biotics leapt to her call, colouring her vision all blue. 

"Shepard!” a voice called. 

A stronger opposing field broke through her paper thin excuse of a biotic field. It wrapped over her, holding her still. 

“Shepard! Breathe!”

Reality slowly reasserted itself as she blinked. Her lungs were heaving, shallow and rapid, her heart slammed against her chest, labouring overtime. Everything hurt tenfold, but her confusion receded. “T’Soni?” Inch by inch, she relaxed, but air was still hard to come by. “What happened?”

T’Soni released her stasis and Shepard could move again. She pressed a hand over Shepard’s forehead. Shepard hissed. T’Soni’s hand was so cold it burnt. Worry coloured T’Soni’s eyes as she pressed two fingers against Shepard’s neck, seeking her pulse. 

Shepard grunted and tried to move away, but there was nowhere to go as weak as she was. 

“Elevated pulse,” T’Soni said. 

“I thought you’re not that kind of doctor,” Shepard muttered. 

The asari’s eyes narrowed as she glowered at the chuckling Shepard. 

“You’re really burning up,” she went on. 

“Am I?” Without T’Soni bring it to her attention, she wouldn’t have realised she was shaking. Ice had somehow filled her bones. “I’m just under dressed.” Shepard pushed herself off the chair and nearly fell face forward onto the floor. 

T’Soni caught her and helped her back into the chair. “Don’t move.”

Before Shepard could speak, T’Soni walked out. She wrapped her arms around her chest and tucked her hands into her armpits. It gave her time to take in their surroundings. Her memory was hazy. She remembered killing Kacor, she remembered stealing the shuttle, she remembered…

Shepard flinched. She remembered the water. How it filled her nose, how it trickled into her mouth despite her clamped shut lips, how it was going to drown her. Not enough air, no air, she would die again and again. A shuddering gasp burst from her lips as she forced herself to take deep breaths. It didn’t matter if it hurt, her fractured ribs screaming in protest, she just needed to breathe. It was just like the last time, the hissing oxygen line, her own weakening rasps ringing loud in her ears and her pulse skyrocketing. 

Then, she ended. It all ended. 

“Shepard,” T’Soni’s returning footsteps was lost in the roaring whine in her ears. Something was fitted over her nose and mouth and a hiss of gas pressed against her. It cut the sharp edges of the panic down to a more manageable one. “Breathe, just breathe.”

T’Soni’s hand rubbed against her back. Her palm seared a path along Shepard’s bare skin, but it anchored her to reality, this reality — not the watery one, not the one where she was blown out of her ship, not the one where she was left behind years ago. 

It was minutes, it was hours, Shepard couldn’t say. Her sense of time was shot when panic reared its head between one breath to the next. Exhaustion didn’t began to cover how she felt. T’Soni never strayed far. Leaving only to return with more supplies, blankets, medi-gel, ration bars but everything was old, stale and expired. 

“Report,” Shepard rasped, trying to focus on their situation.

“The shuttle’s nav is trashed. That’s why this stupid thing wasn’t guarded when we stole it,” T’Soni sighed, pressing a hand over Shepard’s forehead, checking her temperature the old fashion way. 

Shepard snorted. “Just our luck, picking the shittiest one.”

“I’m not Tali so there is no fixing that, but the shuttle still runs so I’ve pointed it towards Omega and hopefully someone picks up our distress signal soon.”

Shepard shifted and looked at T’Soni, pulling away the mask long enough to speak. “Omega and distress signal?”

“I know, I know,” T’Soni huffed. “It’s the best chance we have.”

“If we don’t get rob and kill by boarders first,” she pointed out. 

T’Soni looked at her. Guilt swarm behind her blue eyes. It was a tangible thing that hung between them. Shepard roused herself enough to sit up straighter, wincing at the motion. “It’s fine. We lived and the others will come for us.” Guilt wasn’t an easy thing to erase. Her words barely eased the burden. “Well, Kacor and his people died and that’s fine,” Shepard corrected herself.

That brought a tiny smile to the corners of T’Soni’s lips, and that was enough. Shepard would take it over the sour stench of regret. She was made to take the hits, it’s what she was brought back for. Nobody else needed to get hurt. 

Shepard couldn’t quite say how long they sat in the cockpit. T’Soni hovering anxiously, shifting her attention between the controls and checking Shepard’s temperature. Shepard curled deeper into the foul smelling blankets. No matter many blankets she had, she was still shivering. 

Cold wrapped around her like a familiar friend, the arms of a mother she never knew. It stole into her fingers and toes, down her lungs freezing them still, into her bones and turning her breath to frost. Maybe her borrowed time was up? Shepard found she didn’t have the will to struggle for life like the last time. Her rebirth had been unwanted. So returning to the black might be the right thing to do. Shepard’s eyelids sagged inch by inch as her breaths rasped shallower and shallower. 

* * *

“What happened, Liara?” Garrus asked. 

She had no answers. Her blue eyes were trained on the other bed where Chakwas and Lawson worked. The silver hair doctor tilted Shepard’s head up and shoved a tube down her throat. Lawson, this time dressed in a more combat sensible suit compared to the body suit Liara saw her last time, was assisting. She was stripping Shepard of the blood stained sports bra and underwear she had on. 

“What happened?” Garrus asked again, this time shaking her shoulders. 

Liara turned her eyes to her friend. Her eyes fixated on his scars before darted back at to stare Shepard. The red lines that criss-crossed across her face, tracked down her neck and covered her entire body. It dug grooves into her pale skin. This was the true cost of Shepard’s rebirth. A wretched existence Liara had forced upon someone she dared called friend because she couldn’t let Shepard rest, because Shepard was the only other person who had the echo of the beacon ringing in her head. 

But this…

“We need to get her blood pressure up,” Lawson shouted. “And run her blood through the hemodialysis machine. We don’t know what drugs they had pumped her with. Her brain must be preserved at all cost. I can fix and replace every single part of Shepard, but I can’t do anything if her brain is damaged.”

Liara flinched at Lawson’s frank assessment. But it was true, she had hand delivered Shepard’s… body to Lawson. She had seen how bad Shepard looked. To have her back living and breathing was a testament what miracles Lawson could do with a shit load of credits and the backing of a terrorist organisation. But maybe… there was a reason it was something only a terrorist organisation would do.

_What have I done?_

Chakwas didn’t deign to give Lawson a reply. She hooked the tube coming out of Shepard’s mouth up to the ventilator. A hiss-click sound filled the small med bay. Shepard’s chest rose and fell as air was pumped into her labouring lungs. 

The two women were methodical as they went over each and every wound on Shepard’s body. Lawson kept up a running record of the wounds they found and the ship’s AI was probably recording all of this for posterity. All Liara could see were the wounds taken in her place. The ragged cut along her forearm still bled. Her arm hung limply from the table, a trail of blood dripping from her finger to the pristine Normandy’s floor. The darkened burnt marks that ringed Shepard’s neck from the electric shocks the slave collar had delivered. 

“A mistake,” Liara finally managed to whisper through her clamped shut lips. “That’s what happened, a mistake.”

Garrus’ mandibles tightened against his face, the scarred one sagging a little lower than the other. “What are you talking about?”

Liara’s attention was back on Shepard. The beeps of the heart rate monitor filled her ears. She watched because that was all she could do, all she was allowed to do. The two doctors wielded scalpels, stabbed her still body with needles and pumped her full of yet more drugs. 

Hopefully they could undo the damage she had caused. 

* * *

“Liara,” a voice called her name. Liara flinched. She stood reflexively and almost pitched forward when her blood pressure tanked from the sudden upward motion. 

“Easy, easy,” Chakwas cooed, gently easing her back to the bed. “How are you feeling?”

Liara shook her head and frowned. Her eyes swung immediately to the other bed. Shepard was lying still. The tube was still stuck in her throat. It just one visible reminder what her wild goose chase of the Shadow Broker’s location had brought down upon Shepard. 

“She will recover. There was no brain damage detected from the scans, but we have to conduct more tests when she wakes,” Chakwas reassured her as she checks over Liara’s arm. 

Liara hissed as Chakwas dabbed antiseptic over the wound. “That’s good to know,” she whispered unable to tear her eyes away from Shepard’s motionless body. Bandages winded around her arm and chest, hiding the horrible wounds she had suffered. A thin blanket preserved what little was left of Shepard’s dignity. 

“Her wounds would eventually heal. _Thanks_ to Cerberus tech, they are not life threatening. Shepard will be glad to know many of them will scar.”

She snorted, remembering Shepard’s many scars, all of them erased from her skin by her rebirth. But just because Shepard’s scars weren’t visible didn’t mean she didn’t hurt.

Chakwas sighed and winded a bandage over dressed the wound after sealing it with medi-gel. “There, keep it dry and reapply medi-gel daily. You can get a new implant once it heals.”

Liara nodded, finally pulling her eyes away to meet Chakwas. “Thank you,” she scooted off the edge of the bed. “I should make arrangements to get back to Illium.”

“The Normandy could take you, I’m pretty sure Shepard wouldn’t object.”

Liara shook her head. “I’ve brought her enough troubles. Just drop me off at Omega. I can handle it from there.”

Chakwas blinked as she regarded her, looking at Liara with new eyes. “You don’t have to do this alone.”

Liara blinked. A slow chuckle drifted up from her throat as she drifted over to Shepard’s sleeping form. “I have to,” she said. Her words hovered in the air. Liara’s fingers danced lightly across Shepard’s forehead, brushing hair away. “I owe someone a debt.”

Chakwas made a noise at the back of her throat. It was neither approval or disapproval. “What about Shepard?”

Liara didn’t answer, not immediately. She pressed her lips on Shepard’s forehead. Her heart clenched tight in a way it hadn’t in a long time. Her feelings for Shepard would never change, but she also know Shepard didn’t accept her love, not in the way she wanted. That might change in the future but right now, she wouldn’t have accepted even if Shepard was willing, not when she had debts unpaid. 

“Shepard doesn’t need me,” Liara replied, straightening, sealing a hard mask over her face. In that moment, the scholar died. The war that’s coming needed less scholars, more information brokers. When she turned to face Chakwas, she was a different woman. "Shepard needs people she can trust and I’m glad she has you.”

Chakwas nodded slowly. “You’ve changed.”

Liara didn’t dispute the statement. “The girl you used to know is dead. She died the day she realised the lengths she would go to prevent a future she saw in nightmares.”

“I might have overstepped saying this but, Liara, Shepard will always need you. You’re one of us.”

“Maybe,” Liara shook her head, making her way towards the door. “But after what I’ve done? Maybe not.”

The doctor’s eyes narrowed. Liara could see the gears churning in her head, trying to decipher her words. She turned and pressed her palm on the holo-lock, but she hesitated with one foot out across the threshold, “Look after her will you?”

“I will.” 

Liara turned to leave when Chakwas called out, “Liara, take care of yourself.”

She smiled, one that’s completely polite and ordinary, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “I will.”

* * *

Chakwas stared at Liara’s receding view as she made her way over to Lawson. No doubt to request for a shuttle ride to Omega or something similar. 

She stepped back into the med-bay and looked at the sedated Commander. Gone was the cheeky, hard eyed soldier she came to know through the years of serving together on various ships. The woman that lay on the bed was broken and forced back into a shape, it was amazing she functioned as well as she did.

The Normandy crashed two years ago, 21 people died, one came back. But in truth, all the survivors died a little that day. Now that she saw Liara, she wondered, if Liara died a little more than most. 

Chakwas sighed. She patted Shepard’s arm. “Get well soon, Commander.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hit me up on my [Tumblr](https://natsora.tumblr.com/). Kudos and comments are always welcome!

**Author's Note:**

> Hit me up on my [Tumblr](https://natsora.tumblr.com/). Kudos and comments are always welcome!


End file.
